


Let Me Help You

by sellyoursoulforagoodname



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ianpala | Ian Somerhalder as the Impala, M/M, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sellyoursoulforagoodname/pseuds/sellyoursoulforagoodname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Impala has somehow gotten turned into a human, and now he's pissed at Dean that he won't talk to anyone about what's going on in his head. This is just a little blurb that I wrote, so don't expect much. As usual, I own nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I just wanted to say that the inspiration for this fic came from a couple of posts on tumblr; I just expanded it. I can't remember exactly where I saw them but if you search the ianpala tag, you'll be able to find them rather easily. So, thanks to the people that posted those. Also, I picked the name Damon because of his character on the Vampire Diaries because I like the name and I'm lazy. There may one day be a sequel, but I don't know. As always, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Sam was reeling in surprise upon finding out that their car had been turned into a human. Said human was shockingly a strangely attractive  _male_. He was wearing black jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket. Black hair fell in front of piercing blue eyes and pale, chiseled features. What he didn't expect, even more than him being  _human,_  was the angry look on Damon's—as they'd decided to call him—face when Dean tried not to have an emotional reaction to the situation.

Damon's jaw clenched. "Sam, can you give your brother and I some privacy?"

Sam went to say that he wouldn't be leaving his brother alone with someone he didn't know when they were so angry, but Dean interrupted him. "Baby—Damon, please don't," Dean pleaded.

"Don't 'baby' me, Dean Winchester," he growled. "You  _constantly_  do this. You never talk about what's going on in your head to someone that talks back. Talking at me when I'm a car, but not when you  _know_  I'm listening isn't okay. You let it bubble up so much that you took a crowbar to me and put scars in my back that will never come out." While saying that, Damon stripped his jacket and shirt to show the man the long-healed gashes across his back.

Sam gasped, not knowing that Dean had done that to his precious car.

"You're such a stubborn jackass that you didn't talk about your dad dying or  _anything_  else that's bothering you," Damon continued, his icy blue eyes were piercing as he glared at the Winchester.

The younger brother turned to see Dean looking rather upset.

"I didn't know . . . that it had hurt you like that."

"Yeah, Dean, it  _sucked,_ " Damon snarled He stepped closer to the man he was lecturing. Both men had the aforementioned incident playing on repeat in their minds. "But do you know what hurt even more? That I saw how much it hurt you, that I felt all of your pain . . . And I couldn't do a goddamn thing about it."

"What do you want me to say, Baby?" Dean's voice was practically begging now.

Damon cupped Dean's face in his hands. " _Talk_ to me," he leaned his forehead against Dean's. "Until— _If_  we ever get this fixed, just talk to me."

He nodded weakly. "Okay."

* * *

"Dean, what the hell was that?" Sam demanded while Damon was in the shower a few hours later. "When did you destroy the car?"

"When I was rebuilding her— _him_  after the crash. I took my anger out on him after Dad died," he admitted. "I also have the tendency to talk to him when things are rough. Just . . . don't make a big deal about it okay?"

"Of  _course_  I'm going to make a big deal about it, Dean," Sam argued indignantly. "You're my brother and you don't want to talk to me about things? You'd rather talk to a  _car_  than me."

Damon stepped back into the room with a scowl on his face. "Sammy, I'm going to tell you this once: Back of and think about everything Dean's done for you since he pulled you out of that fire when he was four." He clapped his hands together. "Now, I'm not used to being human, and I need to sleep."

"So do we," Dean chimed in quietly. "You can share my bed, Damon. Get some rest, Sammy; we can talk about this tomorrow."

Sam had to bite back his protest as the two laid down. Instead, he plopped back-first onto the bed and proceeded to lie there, thinking, for the next few hours. Occasionally, he glanced over to the other bed to see what they were doing.

Since both of the other men were topless, Sam easily saw the "SW" and "DW" that were scarred into place on the former car's left shoulder. The handprint from Cas stood out vibrantly against Dean's shoulder in the moonlight. Even in their sleep, the two drifted just close enough that Dean's fingers brushed Damon's side. It seemed the man drew comfort from the being that was usually the Impala despite his shape.

* * *

The morning saw Dean waking up with a warm, fleshy pillow under his head and a hand running through his short hair. "What're you doing?" he mumbled.

"You were having a nightmare about Hell again," Damon explained. "This is my way of helping now that I can."

"Why are you doing this for me? Why do you care so much?"

Damon's hand once again drifted to cup Dean's cheek. "Because I'm yours. Always have been, ever since you talked your dad into buying me. I know better than anyone that you haven't had anyone care about you without an agenda since your mom died. Now, I can do something about it, and I'm going to."

By this point, Sam was awake and listening to the hushed conversation.

Dean closed his eyes as he tried to let the unfamiliar feeling of someone simply wanting to  _help_  wash over him. "Thank you," he whispered.

Damon leaned down to place a soft kiss to his best friend's lips. "Just promise that you won't stop telling me things now that I can talk back."

He nodded. "I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

Three months later and they _still_ hadn't managed to figure out a way to return Damon back to Impala status. During that time, Sam had noticed the way his brother become a little happier. The elder Winchester had started drinking less, his sleeping patterns—except when they were on a job—had become healthier, _and_ the former car had convinced him to start eating the occasional salad. To summarize, Damon had convinced Dean to do things in a few months that Sam had been trying to get him to do for years.

And Sam was not happy about it.

Sure, he was happy about his brother being more content in life, but it was the fact that a _car_ had done something he'd struggled with for years in a fraction of the time. It didn't help that the two had gotten into the habit of sharing a bed, so he had to put up with their obnoxious cuteness every. Single. Night.

"Dean, I've been thinking," Sam approached him one night saying. Damon was out getting some form of takeout or another, so naturally this was the perfect to talk one-on-one with his brother. That was another thing: Lately, it'd gotten to where Damon was so protective of Dean that Sam couldn't say a single cross word to him without it immediately getting invalidated. It was like the car was forcefully trying to make him realize that it was _his_ fuck-ups that usually got them killed.

"That's never a good sign," Dean quipped. "Don't strain that big brain of yours, nerdboy."

"I'm serious, Dean. I think it's time that we split up. Like, for good."

"We've tried that before, Sam, and you know how that went."

Obviously, Dean wasn't taking him seriously.

"You were always alone when we did it though. When the trickster killed you for those months, I got along fine. The reason we always regroup is because there's some big bad out there that one of us can't beat on our own. You've got Damon now; you two can handle anything."

"What is this really about, Sammy?" He apparently wasn't buying the fact that Sam just wanted to split up.

Sam sighed. "It's you and Damon. In addition to being a permanent third wheel, it's obvious that he doesn't want me around. I'm just a source of pain to you in his eyes. I don't want to deal with that anymore, and he clearly thinks I'm more trouble than I'm worth."

"That's not true—"

"But it is," Sam interrupted. "He's made that perfectly evident. Look, I'll finish this case, but after that I'm going back to Bobby's for a bit. I'll go on my own from there."

That was obviously the end-of-discussion line since he just walked out of the room after that.

Dean groaned and flopped back onto his bed. Where he remained. Until Damon came back with food twenty minutes later.

"Man, you would not _believe_ —Where's Sam?"

"Hell if I know. He wants to split up again after this hunt because of some bullshit of you not wanting him around."

Damon sighed. "That's because I don't really want him around. There's a reason I'm always so short with him."

"What?" For some reason, this news seemed to be a shock to the elder Winchester. "Why?"

"Because, Dean, he's killing you," Damon replied, putting the food down. "He's 90% of the reason you hate your life most of the time. He's gotten in trouble. He's lied to you. He doesn't agree with the plan so he goes and does something stupid. It's always the same story and you don't deserve that. You've done nothing but have his back for years. Hell, you even checked up on him in college after he _abandoned_ you with your father."

"He was grown. He made his own choices," Dean muttered.

The next part, Sam could hear since he'd been about to walk back into the hotel room. He stopped, however, when he heard the two talking inside.

"I know your father beat you, Dean," Damon stated bluntly. "I'm pretty sure Sammy suspected what was going on. I wouldn't be surprise if he actually just knew what was happening and yet he still left. Bobby stood up for you, but Sam didn't."

"He was just a kid."

"You just said he was grown. You were always your dad's punching bag, and you did it to protect Sam since he was always the one pissing John off. You took the beating so he wouldn't."

Sam looked at his feet guiltily. He had known about it. It'd been obvious when he was in junior high and John had broken Dean's arm. The man had claimed it happened during the hunt, but it coincided a little too well with John finding out that Sam had joined the soccer team at school. Sam had partially rationalized his leaving by convincing himself that Dean wouldn't be beaten anymore if he wasn't around to anger their father. By Damon's tone, he was wrong.

"You were never good enough to John, so you overcompensate by trying to be so protective of Sam. It's not healthy and I want him away from you so you won't do it anymore. I _don't_ want him around."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, okay. You're probably right. We'll finish this case and separate."

Sam couldn't believe his ears. Just like that Damon had Dean convinced. Unbelievable. He finally entered the room just in time to see Damon kiss Dean's forehead.

They didn't speak about the upcoming split. They didn't need to. This was finally the one thing that couldn't be repaired between them, and it was Dean finally thinking beyond the programming their father had literally beaten into his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a request for some more of Sam's reaction, and I had an idea, so here ya go! Hope you enjoyed and let me know whatcha think.


End file.
